Daphne stepped out of the warm water and into the chilly air of her private bathroom. Her joints still creaked with the pains of a long, unending day, but her attitude was now rejuvenated with a fresh mindset. Wrapping a towel around herself and crossing into her dorm room, she plucked her wand from her bed and cast a drying charm over her hair, it sizzled for a second and then poofed out dry as a bone.

She finally had the time to fix her dorms plumbing and the first thing she'd done was treat herself to a steamy shower. It wasn't just for hygiene purposes, either.

It was a really difficult time for Professor Slughorn's first get-together meal to have fallen for her, she'd already sat through an extremely long day that included a two-hour History of Magic lecture, no dinner and then another two hours in Apparition lessons. She'd been looking forward to having the break and decided to soldier through her discrepancies, but her body was now beginning to regret. The first ten minutes of the shower had just been her stood still, naked, while the water consumed her, restoring her strength to a place where she'd be able to give human contact again.

She'd only an hour between lessons end and the start of tonight's meet, so she'd laid her dress out on the bed for herself beforehand. She had been told what to expect tonight and had decided on a smart-casual outfit. There was a very fetching dress in the wardrobe that she had treated herself to during the holidays, but that was too extravagant for tonight, so she decided to leave it until the Christmas party.

Tonight was going to be good for her, she was determined. It was a chance to take her mind off things. It was to be the start of her recovery process, no more temper tantrums or outbursts after this, it was her first outing as the Daphne she knew she was.

She pulled the sleeves of the dress down over her hands and secured the fabric latch between her middle and ring fingers. It would be a long time before her arms would ever be on show again, and that wasn't just a matter of her not wanting to explain the bandages wrapped around it. In the mirror, she combed her hair into a ponytail. A rare sight, as she normally only ever had her hair back during lessons that required it. Stress on the scalp could lead to early balding, as her father had once told her, and she was not about to argue with his, admittedly, magnificent blonde mane.

Giving herself a once over in the mirror, she was satisfied with her appearance. She had dressed to impress and felt genuinely positive in herself for the first time in ages as she stepped out of her dormitory room. A black-haired Slytherin in a similar, yet unique, navy-blue robe, was stood waiting nearby for her. Daphne smiled a greeting.

"You look radiant, Astoria."

The younger Slytherin smiled back at her, but then after a second, frowned.

"You look a mess Daphne, you alright?"

Daphne's face dropped. She jabbed her finger towards the common room.

"Move. Right now."

Okay, no more outbursts starting after she got to the dinner party.

Horace Slughorn wasn't their new head-of-house or anything, but with Professor Snape never coming out of his new office to put his foot down, the former had all but completely taken over the dungeons in the latter's absence. It was her guess he'd attempted to return the halls to their state from when he originally taught at Hogwarts, years prior. His office was still the usual Potions Master's office, but he had renovated an old room at the bottom of the corridor - she briefly remembered it once being a duelling room - into a second office, which was where tonight's meal was being held.

As such, as the pair of Greengrass's left the common room, it was only a short walk through the dungeons to their destination, which they found lit up by candles on the wall outside.

"We just knock, or?" Astoria mumbled.

Daphne leaned a hand forward and knocked thrice on the door.

"Try and be professional tonight, please," she asked curtly. "This is our chance to leave an impression; being in The Slug Club can open a lot of doors for your future."

"The Slug Club?" Astoria turned her nose up at the word.

"Normal rules apply," she reiterated. "Try not to bring up your band, malediction or any of father's business. Nothing that would draw unwarranted attention."

Daphne took pride in her looks on a regular basis, but this was the first time she could remember that she had an excuse to splash out a bit. The last social gathering she attended had been… not what she had expected. Whether that meant meeting The Dark Lord or the incident in the common room last year, she couldn't choose between, and eventually decided that none of her social occasions had ever gone as planned.

This wouldn't be like that, though, Horace had assured her it would be nothing less than the best of the best students attending tonight.

"Enoby Darkness and the Demented Raven Ways aren't a band, we're a punk vocal group."

Daphne forced a smile, pretending that she hadn't heard that insult upon her ears. As the door to the dungeon room opened, she saw that they were indeed not their only invites, but judging by their welcomers reaction, were among the most anticipated ones.

"Ah, Daphne, Daphne! There you are my girl! And you brought little Astoria, how nice!"

The man's enthusiasm caught Astoria off-guard and she made an instinctual half-dive behind Daphne. Daphne gave her a subtle jab with her hip. Astoria nodded back at him, looking apprehensive, but now less-scared. At a gesture from Horace, the two were lead inside and to a large dinner table with the other invites on it, where they then took seats beside one another.

Trying to keep mostly to herself, Daphne only spared a seconds glance at the other guests present.

Blaise sat opposite them, bolt-upright in his seat and looking like he hadn't said a word all night, a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor that she recognised but couldn't put names to faces, Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger, who were staring intently back at her and squashed beside them, not entirely looking like he knew how he got there, was Harry. At the sight of him, an unsettling tingle hit Daphne in the pit of her stomach. He didn't make any sign of recognition or greeting to her beyond a nod in her direction, and she thanked him immensely for it. It had been quite a while since his mere presence had been able to make her feel like this, like a toxic nostalgia. She knew how high the chances were of seeing him tonight and had mentally braced herself for it as though it were fact, but it didn't help soothe her unease now it was actually happening.

"Now, Daphne, I'm sure you know everyone here!" Horace announced, moving a hand over each of the guests. "Blaise is in your house, of course! This is Ginny Weasley, she's in the year below you I believe, and I'm also told she's an incredibly talented Quidditch Player! Hermione Granger, of course, who needs no introduction! Brightest young witch of her year! This is Cormac McLaggen, you might have happened across each other - ? No? Ah well! This is the lovely Melinda Bobbin, her family owns a chain of apothecaries! And last but not least, who could forget the infamous, Boy-Who-Lived-Himself, Harry Potter!"

All except for the last, Daphne did a courteous nod to each of the guests as he introduced them to her. Horace clapped his hands together joyfully.

"And might I have the honour of introducing, Slytherin Prefect and witch-prodigy, Daphne Greengrass, as well as her younger sister Astoria, who is leading a very promising career in musical entertainment!"

Ignoring the I-told-you-so look Astoria was giving her, Daphne turned her attention to the table. As soon as she'd settled, a steaming-hot steak materialised on the dish in front of her and her goblet filled with an orangey-red liquid. The first whiff of the meat sent her taste buds pumping rapidly, and the scramble to gather her knife and fork and dig in seemed like a long and drawn out one.

"So, moving forward, Mr. McLaggin, or do you prefer Cormac? Cormac, you happen to see quite a bit of your uncle Tiberius, I believe?"

Determined not to let Harry's presence have an affect on her night, Daphne lifted the meat on her fork and bit into it, and to her surprise, found it exactly up to her usual standards. Well done to the point of being almost black, a preference most considered disgusting of her, but she certainly had to give Horace props for his research.

"Oh yeah," the Gryffindor, McLaggin, grunted, sporting a mouth-full of mashed potato. "Me an 'im went Nogtail huntin' in Norfolk with Bert Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour last summer."

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus, too?" he beamed, suddenly offering him a small tray of pies he had seemingly sprung from nowhere. "Now, tell me…"

"Harry Potter is here," Astoria whispered by her side.

Daphne's hand sealed tightly over her fork. She glanced back across the table at him, and then around for any wandering ears.

"I can see that," she mumbled back.

"Wanna go sit on his face?"

Daphne bent her fork.

"WHO taught you to talk like that?!"

Astoria flinched away from her, smirking into her drink. Wrinkling in disgust, Daphne grimaced.

"Tracey did. Of course she did!"

In the aftermath of the disaster at Greengrass Woodhouse last year, Daphne had given Astoria a much-abbreviated version of the events concerning her and Harry. Apparently being back at Hogwarts since must have caught her up on what really happened. They'd definitely be having words later on about what was and wasn't an appropriate joke to make around others.

Horace took to interrogating Blaise next about his home life and because Daphne was still sour about the common room incident last year, she took an immense amount of pleasure over how uneasy the Professor was making him. Blaise went into detail about his mother and her string of ex-partners, and how she used their inheritance money, which she acquired after they vanished from mysterious circumstances, to open a chain of restaurants across Europe. It was a much more toned down version of the story that she had overheard from others, but she didn't blame him for that, given present company.

It was Granger's turn next and apparently in the Muggle-world her parents were some kind of teeth-doctors, that conversation played out just about as boring and uncomfortable for everyone as it sounded would. By the end of the ordeal, it was obvious in Horace's tone he had been expecting more from her, which made Daphne poof out her chest in delightful gratification.

After that, the food was good enough that it allowed Daphne to zone out of whatever was said next. Honestly, the meetup was pretty much exactly how she had expected it to be. Everyone here was invited because they were either, or were connected to, someone well-known or influential in the wizarding world. Blaise had his mother and her food business, Granger had among the highest grades of them all, McLaggin had friends in the Ministry, Bobbin's family was infamously well-off, and of course, Harry-Bloody-Potter. The only one that didn't immediately make sense to her was Ginny Weasley, she couldn't think of anything noteworthy about her. It didn't matter though, Daphne had gotten the invite, that was all that was important. It spoke a lot about her. It didn't matter that she either didn't like, or wasn't on good terms with barely anyone else in the room, Horace had seen potential in her regardless. Finally some good news to send back to father… even if it didn't exactly feel like it.

Truth be told, at this point Daphne had stopped listening to the conversation all together. She wasn't aware of it, but her attention, eyeline and energy was starting to leak a few seats over from her. Perhaps there was a secret part inside of her that made her do it, but her head turned in that direction of its own accord. Unfortunately for her, she only realised what she was doing when she was caught in the act.

Her and Harry's eyes met across the table. Daphne's head snapped back to her food, a sudden hot flush washing over her.

"And what of you, Miss Greengrass? See much of your father lately?"

The mention of her name catapulted her back into the room and she saw that all eyes were on her now. The grip on her fork tightened again. She swallowed steadily, then gave a calm smile.

"My father works in the Ministry. He is the head of the Department of Magical Artefacts, where he oversee's their supervision and classification."

She spoke loud enough for the entire room, but had her main attention on Horace.

"He often travels abroad for his job, which makes seeing him difficult, but he ensures me and Astoria are taken care of."

She was talking off the top of her head, and every word coming out was dealing a great deal of damage to her integrity.

Getting caught staring like that struck as a shock to the system, and her heart was now beating hard in her chest.. It was taking just about everything she had to force her words into something comprehensible.

Horace nodded, listening.

"And is the supervision of magical artefacts a profession that you yourself take interest in as well?" he asked.

Daphne shook her head, still fighting to keep herself in the room.

"I've had… offers, from both my father and others in his department for when I graduate, but I can't say it's particularly my personal field of interest."

Horace chuckled knowingly.

"Mmhmm, your eyes are set on something much more grand than, I take it?"

"Well…" she calmed, thinking for a second, "... Now you mention it, I did want to be the Minister of Magic when I was a girl, actually. Since then I decided on a career in Medical Curse-Breaking felt a little more suitable for today's climate, and slightly more realistic."

As she finished, Daphne regretted her wording. She'd tried to chose her phrasing like a joke, but kept it sterile and it came out sounding almost passive aggressive.

"Why limit yourself, my dear?" Horace chuckled merrily. "A powerful, stunning and intelligent little-thing like you, you could be the youngest Minister of Magic in the world if you really set your heart to it!"

The Professor was unphased by her tone, and she remembered why she'd been so acutely ready to come to tonight's meal. There was something about Horace's tone and general aura that sat well with her. She was rapidly beginning to like this man.

"Thank you, Horace," she said, trying to hold back a blush.

"And now!" Horace shifted massively in his seat, once again dragging all eyes and ears to his attention, "Harry Potter!"

Daphne sagged her shoulders and returned to her food, but kept an eye on Harry's response. He didn't seem to be as phased as she were by them locking eyes, but that was also probably because he generally looked unhappy to be there.

"Where to begin, I feel we barely scratched the surface in the Three Broomsticks!"

That was the first she had heard of those two being friends out-of-class, but then again, it was none of her business. Come to think of it, it did also explain Harry's sudden excelling in Potions of late. It confirmed her suspicions that he was actually good at the subject, and it was his disagreements with Professor Snape that dragged him down. She almost felt compelled to congratulate him for it.

"The Chosen One is a big title, I assume," Horace continued after a short pause. "Of course, there have been rumours for years since it happened… I remember when - well - after that terrible night… Poor Lily, yet you survived, and the word was that you had powers beyond the ordinary. How right we all were, ay? Why, I bet everyone at this table is humbled to share the castle with you! The Man who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

Harry said nothing. Daphne sympathised with him, even if he had just given her a heart attack. It was almost comforting to know he was suffering from the same legacy-chasing right now that she was. She had yet to hear him say anything all night, but now he actually had reason not to. A glance around the table, she saw Bobbin, McLaggin and Blaise all staring threateningly at him.

"But now it's all true, I hear? Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to publish inaccuracies from time to time, but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was indeed a prophecy?"

"None of us ever heard it," Granger answered for him.

Eyes switched to her, and Horace suddenly regarded her with great interest.

"You were there too, were you?" he asked.

Granger said nothing more, and Harry shifted around uncomfortably in his seat.

"Honestly, Professor," he spoke up finally, looking apprehensive at best and uncomfortable at worst, "I'm doing my best to just focus on my exams. Trying to put off the whole Chosen-One stuff for now, it can wait until I'm an Auror."

Despite his obscure answer, he seemed happy with it and then set off babbling about something else in his usual chipper tone. The conversation shifted off of Harry and onto who ever was next, but Daphne's attention didn't waver from him.

She'd seen that look on his face before. It was the Please-Let-Me-Live-A-Normal-Life-And-Stop-Forcing-Things-Onto-Me expression.

She knew it well.


As it went later into the evening, Harry's presence in the room proved too distracting for Daphne to properly enjoy herself. Despite the weeks convincing herself otherwise, she apparently wasn't as over him as she thought she was. By the time everyone had finished their meals, Daphne was debating trying to make her escape. She wasn't enjoying herself quite as much as she thought she would, and she was fully aware of why she wasn't.

Just as she put her knife and fork in the centre of her plate and stood up, however, Horace then announced it was time to mingle, and sent everyone off into different corners of the room. Not wanting to seem rude on her first impression, she reluctantly decided to linger for a bit longer. This was where she grew a lot less confident, as she had an already established reputation among the other students. She was about to make a beeline for Horace, who had yet not grown to hate her, and mingle exclusively with him, but found her path blocked by a taller man.

"Can I help you?"

Blaise rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"I don't know anyone here, either."

By the time Daphne was able to maneuver herself around Blaise, she saw Horace had already delved into deep conversation with Harry. Dishevelled, she leaned back against a table of photographs, and found Blaise doing the same beside her.

"You're kinda cute when you're flustered, you know?"

Daphne deadpanned back at him.

"Piss off."

Blaise just smiled harder.

"I'm kidding!"

He threw his head back and gestured across the room at an uncomfortable-looking Harry.

"We all know I'm not your type..."

Daphne raised her eyebrows at him.

"I am here to enjoy myself. If you are here only to wind me up, I have no problem putting you in your place like I did Pansy."

Despite the threat, there was no anger in her tone. Any shame or embarrassment she could have felt over their scandal was long burned out her system. It was to the point now that, if anything, his comment just left her feeling slightly melancholic.

Her under-reaction apparently wasn't what he was expecting, as he dropped his smile, and shifted into a more jaded mood. He crossed his arms and gestured out into the room, sighing.

"Sluggy has got a pretty good lineup. McLaggen's a bit of a wild card, though."

She frowned at him.

Was he genuinely trying to make conversation with her, after that? Six years of knowing each other the most she ever got off him was teasing, Pansy's party was the first and only time they'd ever actually spoken. Nonetheless... she couldn't deny that they did share the same house and she wasn't particularly looking forward to the prospect of attempting to mingle with anyone outside of it.

"I believe his father is in the Ministry," she answered begrudgingly, but not looking at him.. "Connections, and all that. I'm surprised at Granger."

Blaise chuckled.

"Damn, Daphne. She's the strongest witch in our year, is it really surprising?"

She sent a scowl his way.

"She is not. And she's also…"

"You were gonna say a mudblood?"

"No, I wasn't."

Blaise smiled.

She answered quicker than she should have and he noticed. He was right, of course, but she had in-fact paused to think of a more socially-correct term. No amount of good grades could change the fact that Granger was a stranger in their world, which was why Daphne was so sour over the prospect of her doing better in lessons than her, but she liked to consider herself above the usual derogatory name-calling.

She turned to Blaise was about to say something very socially unacceptable to him, when they suddenly had company bounding upon them.

"There we are! My Slytherin groupies!"

Horace grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her in for a squeeze. Any other man to touch her like that was getting a wand up their nose, but as his touch, Daphne felt surprisingly calm.

"Keeping the legacy strong, I hope?"

Blaise gave a forced, but quite convincing grin.

"Hey, cheers for inviting us, Prof!"

Horace jabbed a finger into the boys chest.

"My name is Horace, young man! Call me Professor again and I'll retire, just to prove a point!"

"It's a lovely get-together, Horace," Daphne smiled graciously at him. "We are honoured to be invited."

Horace's eyes lit up and he tightened his grip on her suddenly, perfectly fitting her shoulder under his arm.

"Quite a lot to live up to, you know! Just about every famous witch or wizard from Hogwarts was a member of the Slug Club at some point or another! I'll be expecting great things from you all in the years to come!"

"Then we'll do our best for you…" Blaise took a second to ease out, "... Horace."

"Hmm, I expect so! I'll be hope some life-time coupons will be on the table when you take over the family business, ay my boy?"

Horace laughed, but with how specifically he worded it, Daphne doubted he was joking. He then turned his attention to her.

"And you! Daphne Greengrass! The youngest Minister of Magic that ever lived! Why I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other when you come into the office!"

A harsh blush fought its way onto her cheeks, and she was unable to keep herself from smiling.

"Thank you, when I become a Curse-Breaker, I'll be sure to remember your kind words, Horace."

The man gave a hearty belly-laugh and gave her another squeeze.

"Right, I shan't keep you! But please, do go and mingle!" he said passionately. "It'd be wrong of us to deny the other houses the privilege of our presence!"

With that he released Daphne, gave Blaise a rough pat on the shoulder and scurried off into a different section of the room, diving immediately into conversation with another group of guests. The two Slytherins were left stunned and silent in his wake.

"He's alright, I reckon," Blaise nodded. "Bit pompous, but chill."

"I happen to think he's lovely," Daphne shot back.

"Into the older types, ey? Didn't take you for a gold-digger… explains Potter, though, now I'm thinkin' about it."

"Oh for…"

Daphne's voice descended into a growl. She turned away from him and grinded her teeth together to stop herself from saying something she'd regret. There was nothing that she could say that wouldn't end up getting turned back on her, people like Blaise were exactly the reason she'd had such a short temper recently.

Mercifully Astoria appeared by her side at that second and tugged on Daphne's sleeve.

"What?"

"Harry Potter keeps looking at you."

Her stomach twisted. Without the time to stop herself, her eyes instantaneously shot the other side of the room and were matched again with his. Though Harry looked away, Daphne tried, but couldn't manage it. It was harder this time. Her eyes lingered on him longer than they should have, and a giggle erupted from Astoria.

"Want me to go sort him out?"

That brought Daphne back into the room, and she turned around to see Blaise listening, though she couldn't quite call it eavesdropping, as they were stood right by him and Astoria had by no means spoken quietly.

"No, Yog Sothoth, Blaise!" she scolded him. "Just ignore him."

"What actually is the deal with you two these days anyway? Tracey says you decked him?"

Daphne pushed her chin out in annoyance.

"We broke up. That's all anyone needs to know."

She huffed and crossed her arms, unwilling to give up anything more. Blaise nodded and raised his hands defensively, that same shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

"I'm chill, don't worry! You wanna be a blood traitor, all good, whatever gets you off. Well-worth it for me to see the look on Draco's face."

Daphne felt her face flash red. Blaise was laughing, but when he caught sight of the look she was giving, he fell quiet.

"That was a joke… I was joking."

She took a step closer to him.

"Do not insult me in front of my little sister," she seethed through a clenched jaw. "Better yet, if you ever plan on continuing the Zabini bloodline, you'll never, ever call me that again."

Blaise didn't answer, just gave a simple shrug and turned his back to her once more. He looked like he'd finally given up trying to 'mingle' with her and wandered away from their proximity, likely trying subtly to put some distance between himself and her.

Daphne's eyes returned to Harry. He was on his own right now, Ginny or Granger had been with him earlier, so she could only imagine they'd gone on a bathroom break together. This time, again, it was harder for her to pull her eyes away from him.

She had thought that by distancing themselves from each other, and limiting their time together to only what was mandatory during lessons, it would help them both move on one another. For the most part she was right, until she started noticing she had a growing a temper problem and then she realised the true impact that his absence was having on her. She had spent so long projecting her freedom onto him, and the good feelings that came with it, now that he was out of her life, no matter what she did she was still left with a Potter-shaped hole lingering over her.

Whenever he was back in her life, albeit it however briefly, she struggled forcing herself back into a place where he was absent from it.

She was fighting a loosing battle, but it was a ship she was determined to go down with.

"Stay here. Don't talk to anyone."

"Are you going to go talk to him!?"

"I said stay here."

"Don't tell me what to do! Are you going to go hit him?"

Daphne hissed at her.

"Go talk to Ginny, then, you two will get along. Stay away from Cormac and Blaise, I'll be back."

Astoria looked like she had something else she wanted to say, but Daphne didn't give her the chance.

She turned away from her and crossed the room, coming up on Harry from behind. As she gained on him, her rising frustration suddenly turned to butterflies in her stomach. She didn't leave herself time to back out.

"Hello, Harry."

He span around instantly at the sound of her voice.

"Daphne?" he asked aloud, almost as if he didn't believe what his eyes were seeing.

"I just…"

Daphne took a breath.

"... wanted to clear the air between us. I'm sure you understand why I have been keeping my distance."

It took him a second to process her words. He frowned, then proceeded to pull all manner of ugly expressions before finally settling on a single one.

"I mean, I haven't a clue, frankly," he shot back with a very clear air of annoyance in his tone.

Daphne swallowed heavily.

She had acted on impulse, approaching him, and was now rapidly beginning to regret her decision. Seeing him stare at her like that, with nothing but confusion and contempt in his mind, was upsetting. The last time he'd looked at her like she had betrayed him to Professor Umbridge, albeit against her will, but it still dragged up all manner of unresolved feelings from that night.

"Well…"

She struggled, not actually knowing where she was going with this.

"... I don't have any hard feelings against you. I hope you know that."

"You know actually, I didn't know that?" he shot back again.

"Considering the last time we spoke you broke up with me out of nowhere."

She pushed the breath from her lungs.

"It wasn't out of nowhere, I explained my…"

A wash of anxiety punched her in the gut and she fell silent.

She wasn't going to argue with him. That wasn't what she was here to do, she was better than that. It was closure she needed right now, not a fight. It was a horrible thing she had to do to him, there was no denying that, but couldn't he see she was trying to make amends? She explained her reasons, why was he being so hostile to her?

"I didn't want-"

"Katie Bell was attacked, did you hear about it?"

Daphne frowned. She had recalled overhearing something about it, but hadn't had a conversation with anyone directly about it. What did that have to do with anything?

"A few of us think it was something to do with Malfoy."

She pursed her lips, confused.

"And?"

"Do you know anything about it?"

She shook her head, not as an answer, but out of confusion.

"What're you asking me?"

He sighed at her annoyance. If Daphne didn't know him he way she did, she would almost go as far as to say that by his tone and expression, he was accusing her of something right now.

"Why are you being like this, Daphne?"

She locked eyes with him. That time he'd spoken softer.

"Talk to me, please," he asked genuinely. "I don't care what's going on with you... just talk to me about it and I'll understand. I'll help, I'll do anything I can, I promise... You know you can trust me."

The was a pleading tone in his voice and he had a puppy-dog face to match. His words hit her like a truck and she found herself wanting to answer every word of it, and yet none of it at the same time. He knew what she was going through, why was he putting her in this position?

Pushing through her rising unease, she tried answering.

"It's not a matter of trusting you, Harry... I'm just doing what I have to do. I don't owe you, or anyone else, any explanations for how I live my life. None of this is your fault, so I don't know why you keep bringing this back onto you. It's just the way the stars have aligned."

"The way the stars have aligned? What are you on about?" he shot back, again growing annoyed. "Nobody made you leave me and nobody is stopping you from talking to me, either! You made those choices yourself. I left my girlfriend for you, I lost friends because of you, thinking it'd all be okay if we just stuck together... But after all we went through last year, now you just suddenly decide to leave me behind! Do you think I'd be annoyed if I actually knew what you were going through? But I don't, because you won't tell me anything about what's going on with you!"

It was like Daphne's world skidded to a sudden and rough halt.

The blood drained from her face. Her senses had frozen over and her body felt numb. All she could do was stare deep into those glaring eyes, unable to move. His words struck her like a knife to the heart.

Was that really how he felt? Like she'd abandoned him? How had he gotten that, she thought she made it obvious that she wasn't doing this out of her own free will?

She ended up forcing out the first words that came to her mind, if anything, just to keep him from speaking again.

"Harry… you don't know what my world looks like."

"Yeah, well, how could I?"

Daphne brought a hand over her mouth. She couldn't take hearing him talk this way to her. If it had been anyone else, her father, Pansy, Professor Snape, literally anyone, she could handled it fine. But seeing the man that she'd gone through so much to be with, staring at her like that... She couldn't go through being a disappointment to another person she cared about, not again.

"It's over, Harry. I'm sorry for all the things I've done to mess you up."

Daphne breathed, her cool exterior now beginning to fail her.

"Really, I am. Goodnight."

"I don't want sorry, Daphne, I want you!" he pleaded. "Just talk to me, I can help, we can get things back the way they were! Why is that so horrible?"

She couldn't bare it any longer. Daphne forced her eyes away from his.

"Whatever's going on with you, I promise I'll understand, just tell me!"

She broke their exchange. She turned and, her knees wobbling she walked back across the room the way she came. Keeping her eyes shut were just about the only thing she could do to keep herself from crying. She didn't dare look back, and doubted she could even if she tried.

"That looked like it went well."

Daphne's temper flashed.

"Astoria, I swear to the old gods..."